La plume et l'epee: Le fils du Prevot
by CeresVirgo
Summary: This story will tell Frollo's life from his parents encounter to his death. Some content might be hard to read due to, violence, sex, abuse, and substance abuse. English is my second language, so if some content sound awkward to you, feel free to PM me, your suggestions would be more than welcome. Lecteurs francais, si vous voulez que je publie aussi en francais, dites le moi.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own any of the Disney's, or Hugo's characters. However, all other characters appearing in this story are my original characters and they are mine and mine alone :p.**

 **Introduction:**

 **The story takes place in Spring 1445, about one year before Judge Claude Frollo's birth ( he will be about 36 when he will meet Esmeralda, I preferred the age Victor Hugo gave him as some of his qualities). You will learn about his parents early lives, how they met, fell in love...and then something wonderful happens,they make a baby, well, wonderful, it depend on if you like Frollo or not ;)**

* * *

Justice Potier was a couple of potter's adoptive daughter. Her unique name was given to her by the social services because she had been found in a basket, left at the goddess of Justice statue's feet. The minister had interrogated his subordinates, especially those with a poor reputation. None had found themselves and the infant girl looking alike. The fact that she had been left there, instead of to the church, remained a mystery. Rumors quickly spread...Since the Palace could be seen as a church by non locals, some thought the mother might have left her here by mistake. The minister would be the father and would not tell the truth about his dirty little secrets. Although, the palace was warmer than Notre Dame, therefore, the mother would have made sure that the little girl did not die due to the cold rain...

The minister had wanted to place the child himself. Due to the strange circumstances of her founding, this infant had begum by attracting more curious people than some potential parents. For almost two weeks, he had met families full of good attentions, and whom could afford to raise the baby. However, the couple Potier, had particularly touched him; they had lost their daughter of fever. Despite they were not as rich as some candidates, their tears had convinced the official to fulfill their wish. They did not want to adopt her by charity or christian duty, they only wanted a child to love. The little one would not sleep in the silk, but she would receive plenty of love; that was something that money could not buy.

Though, Justice had grown up in the City and learned the potter trade. She did not have the joy to have siblings. Her parents had tried vainly to have other children. The Potier were good Catholics, she had learned to love her home and God. Since she was their only child, her father had paid her a simple education at the Benedictines' cluster. On top of the pottery, she knew how to read and write, and understood the holy scriptures.

At sixteen years old, she had grown into a pretty young woman. Her features were refined, her gesture and her movements full of grace. Her hands were long, her fingers sharp and smoothed by the clay. Her forehead was high, her eyebrows formed two fine curves looking like the vaults of Notre Dame. She had hazel eyes, her nose was long and straight, and her lips well drawn. There were nobility in her features and in her long-limbed body. Her aspect fueled the rumor telling that she would have been the bastard daughter of Gustave Lavoisier, last minister of justice.

Justice, her name suited her well. She was wise, pious, and very strict. Her temperament could be perceived through her attitude and her gray, brown, black ,and deep blue, gowns.

At the opposite of the mid fifteenth century fashion, she did not expose her breast. Her hair, looking displaying the browns, reds, and yellows, nuances of the trees in fall, were often hidden beneath a scarf or severely groomed in braids. Since hair was described as an object of lust in the Bible, she refused to expose them and arouse men.

Despite she was pretty, young men did not take much risks by coming around her. She could keep them in respect with her refusal frown on her beautiful face. The one who found the boldness to invite her to some festival or to go for a walk, or mumbled a declaration of love, heard her answer a cold "No thanks, I am not interested.". Then, she walked away, her head hold high, leaving the unfortunate in the middle of the shop with his flowers in his hand. Her time with the nuns had set this mistrut toward the stronger sex into her. Although, she developed a negative opinion about the marriage, that she saw as the annihilation of a woman soul. Most of the City young women were already married, engaged, or had, at least, somebody in mind. Justice was still alone, with the clay, the Bible, her sketch, and accounting books. Her parents started to question the good in having educated her. Alas the harm was done; they would not be able to marry her.

It was Easter day, and this year, Justice was member of the choral because her friend, Solene, had pushed her to be part of it. Her mother had sewed her a beautiful white dress for the event. Her father was grooming her long golden brown hair. The unleashed braids had made cute little curls; he piked white roses ,all around her skull, to the hairpins that hold her white veil.

_ This veil is far too short, daddy. Everybody going to see my hair. She twisted her nose.

_ It is the church regulation, my chick. He adjusted a rose.

_Cut my hair, then. She took the scissors that her mother left on the dressing table.

_Don't you think about that. He took them from her hand.

Her mother looked at her little Justice with tenderness.

_Come on Chicklet, it is only for today. She came closer.

She laid her hands and her chin on her shoulders. She stared at their reflections. She had grey hair, so had her husband. The little Justice had grown up, had bloomed in beauty as a flower under the spring dew.

_Look how beautiful you are. She caressed softly her cheek.

_ This is vanity, mommy, that to be staring at one self like this. She reacted to the compliment. And I need a shawl to cover this.

She showed the tiny opening of the dress under her throat, revealing her a little below her suprasternal notch.

_I don't see anything wrong. Her father grumbled while he started to sort the grooming tools.

_You are my daddy, but what other men will think when they'll see that? That I am in heat? She became confused.

_No, dear. Her parents laughed.

_Come on my daughter, it is only for today, do an effort. Her mother asked her.

_I don't have the choice. She surrendered.

_Let's go, her father gave the departure signal, we have a good quarter of an hour a walk to Notre Dame.

Justice followed her parents like a convict going to the gallows. The city was in excitement and she heard plenty of compliments on her gown. Vanity and lust, she thought in clenching her teeth. She would have wanted to run and hide herself, but she had to respect her engagement with the Church. It was not really the Solene who had lead her to join the choral, it was herself because she wanted to serve God. He gave a good voice, so be it, she would sing for him. The calvary into Paris

tortuous streets had brought them in front off the Cathedral.

_We going to let you go, chicklet. Her mother kissed her.

_So, you don't even come in!? She exclaimed.

_The officials, nobles and bourgeois have the seats; we have to wait outside. She confirmed.

_God, she turned pale, why would I sing if you can't even hear me?

_We already heard you at home. Her mother smiled.

_Yes, but inside the cathedral, the sound is not the same. She persisted.

_We heard you from the outside. She pushed her in the back.

_ Go join the others, you will find a friend, even two. Her father encouraged her.

She sighted and went to join the choral ,that was waiting for the archbishop, on the Cathedral's steps. She walked through this group of stranger, attempting to cover her neck with her hand and her hair. The singer flock was waiting for its shepherd; she was the lost sheep. Men stared at the girls with hungry wolves' eyes. They were talking together, about family ties they had with the young ladies they saw. She heard rumors of marriage, consumption, and lust. It was indecent to have such unholy words and thoughts on the house of God's doorstep. She walked faster in avoiding the stares of the crowd. She finally joined the group, and exhaled in relief.

_Morning, Justice. The baker's daughter welcome her.

_Morning, Solene, how are you? She asked her.

_Good, good, I only hope it is not too visible. She confided her while looking down at her belly.

_No, I see nothing, Justice whispered, I only hope that it was worth it.

_We'll get married next week. She announced her.

_Congratulation. She forced herself into a smile.

_You look very good today, you should dress that way more often. Solene Suggested

_No, she made a face, I don't want to end up married.

_Nobody in mind, still? She seemed concerned.

_No, and it is not close from happening. She mumbled.

_Eh! There will be one who will be more persistent than the others, and he will catch you! Solene chuckled.

_Don't you think about such an awful thing. She made her face again.

_Eh! You won't say always that! She laughted. Wait for one that will make you feel like there are butterflies in your tummy, and all hot and all cold, make your legs shake, that you turn into a powerless thing when he'll set his eyes upon you...

The silence fell on the group because the archbishop made his arrival.

_He will make you sh...She was abruptly stopped by Justice hand blocking her mouth.

She tried to protest and her friend increased the pressure against her lips.

_You are in front of the house of God! Justice spat, turning her toward the priest.

_Oh, sorry Father, she mumbled against her palm while slightly signing herself.

The archbishop smiled and seeing that he was not upset, Justice freed her friend.

_Come in. He invited them to follow him.

The group started to walk inside the building, side by side, in an organized manner.

_He probably heard far worst than that, Solene continued chatting, believe me, those nobles and those elected, must do far worst after mass.

_Hush. Justice got annoyed.

_And after that, they pay the holy virgin and ask to be atoned by the priest. She ignored her.

_Hush! She insisted, seeing some noble faces staring at them.

_It doesn't atone what they do, those pigs. She pursued.

_Are you going to shut up! She arrived exasperated in front of the altar.

_All right, all right, I shut up. I can't wait for it to be over, I want to go see my Pierre. She grumbled.

The archbishop came to them.

_I think I am going to have to separate you. Solene, I want to keep an eye at you. He showed her a spot near the sacristy, and for you, it will be the first row.

He took Justice by an arm and started dragging her to destination.

_Mercy, Father, don't put me in the front row. She pleaded meekly.

_ You are one of the only one who did not compromise herself, or worst to be pregnant. Our lord will be very pleased. He soothed his tone for she stopped mistaking his act for a punishment.

_Amen. She resigned to let him placed her in front of the officials bench.

He left her and kept on placing his singers like dolls in display. Boys on the top, girls below, he was like a bee flying around a daisy batch.

_Justice, move a little on your right. He asked her.

_Yes, yes, Father, she started moving, whaaaa!

She just hurted something and almost fell. A solid set of long legs were in the middle of the narrow hallway.

_Forgive me. Their owner removed them. _Sorry. She also apologized.

_Justice! Justice! Snaped at her the archbishop. Look where you going!

The man wore a large hat that he forgot to take off. Judging by his breath, he dis just come in.

_My fault, Father, the man took the blame in rubbing his trousers. I was making myself too comfortable.

_After hours on horseback, he mumbled in removing the hairs, damn nag!

He was smelling like horse and sweat. She bend to try to see his facial expression; she was afraid to have hurt him with her wooden soles.

_I hope that I did not hurt you. She wanted to know how he was feeling.

_Hurt me?! He raised his head ,amused. You would need to do better than that to hurt me, girl!

_Well, everything is doing well, then, hum, Sir. She backed away from him.

"Your hat" she heard the man seated next to him.

_Ehhh. He took it off and placed it onto his laps.

One of her feet was feeling cold; her shoe! She lost her shoe. She started searching after it by looking around while the archbishop was beginning to distribute the candles.

_Have you lost something? The man whispered.

_My shoe. She kept her eyes on the floor.

He looked around him and verified beneath his bench. He had brought it back accidentally beneath him when he moved his legs. He took the little shoe carefully and waited for the priest to turn his back to them to hand it back to her.

_Thank you. She moved swiftly to take it from him.

She fell into his gray eyes and their fingers touched briefly. She looked down; she took back her belonging in a quick and clumsy move. She put her shoe back on hastily and returned to her slot. The man kept on looking at her, and she could not turned her eyes away from him. A cold feeling griped her stomach, the blood left her face and her members. A sweat started dripping onto her back. Was she going to faint? A black cloak broke the visual contact between them. Justice took her candle with a trembling hand.

_Are you feeling all right, my child? The archbishop seemed to worry.

_Yes, it is just..the emotion. She stammered. Having to sing... in front of so many people.

When the priest moved from her sight, the man had stopped to looking at her. He was talking to his friend, his head bend to his ear. She could not hear what he was saying, however, she sensed the vibration of his deep voice in her chest. She thought about what Solene told her about the charms of the stronger sex and how they made the woman's flesh react. She swallowed hard and hold her candle tightly as if it was the last object that could save her. She analyzed his profile. He had a long and aquiline nose, a strong chin, an angular jaw, and prominent cheekbones. He has a high and sloping forehead with two little bumps near his eyebrows. His curled ash blond hair fell on his shoulders. Despite his strong scent, he was properly shaved and he seemed to take great care of his appearance. He would simply have an active life, as a horse trainer or breeder, something like that. His attention came back to her; she had to turn her head away, or she would encourage him to use his male magic on her...but what an idiot! She stood looking straight at him, unable to move a eyelash. He smiled at her, and she tried to respond with a little grimacing smirk. He had a handsome smile that smoothed his angular face, and he seemed contempt with his effect! She was furious and...how dared he, using his charms into a church! Now, her legs started shaking!

The priest broke their silences exchange and lighted up her candle. He waited and cleared his throat.

_Oops! she remembered her role.

She passed the flame to the singer on her right and soon all candles were lighted up.

_Get up. The archbishop invited his flock.

The man stood up and she backed up, impressed; he was a giant. She was out of his sight at last. She had his imposing chest in front of her. She could not help herself and looked up to take a quick measurement of his shoulders width. He reminded her of these mythological creatures, half man, half beast. Since he was scenting like a man and a horse, he would be a centaur. Knowing that he was observed, he bend his head and she drowned into his steel lakes. He gave her a quick smile and focused his attention back on the archbishop. She came back to her when the cathedral resounded of the fidels song. She caught up on the others, hoping that the priest did not take notice of her breach of duty. Her voice and the man's seemed to unify and to come out together from her own throat. It was a strange duo between a bass and a soprano. He was standing at a respectable distance from her, but she could feel the heat emanating from his body and scent his breath. She would have to talk about this somewhat terrifying experience with Solene. When the canticle came to an end, she searched her in the group. She did not know the girl that were in her sight. Their dress were made of noble fabric whereas hers was made of simple wool. The archbishop had placed her among girls from the most respectable families of Paris. It was a great honor made to his "favorite", but she was feeling isolated.

"She sings like a nightingale" She heard the centaur talked to his friend.

Was he talking about her? She turned her head toward them and did not miss the opportunity to strike her with one of his smile. She returned it to him a little better than the first time even if it was a shy one. His friend was looking at her as well, but he did not make her feel this strange effect. The centaur's gray eyes as the sky was before a thunderstorm locked into hers, petrified her, and stroked her. Her physical responses aggravated; she was cold, then hot, her ears buzzed. A knot formed into her throat and squeezed her breath away. She had to break the visual contact to be able to sing the next canticles. Solene was right, she was not different of other women, but she would not let him have his end. She was going to ignore him until the end of the ceremony.

"I must talk to her father" "Don't you think about that" "Do you know her father?" "No, that is the first time that I saw her" "Justice, this name, this is a sign from heaven." "Calm down, you do not even know her" "We'll have years to learn to know each other. You didn't know Blanche neither."

His friend gave up on trying to reason with him. " Get Married on a whim, do as you wish" He sighted. Justice's poor heart missed a beat. She would have to get out of here as fast as possible, disappear in the middle of the crowd, before the centaur would find her. He would not have her, no, no, and no.

She barely heard the archbishop, she was stalled like a deer taken in a hunter sight. The dark cloak of the holy man passed like a shadow during the intense duel between the woman and the man. When the priest walked back to the altar, the man gave her a quick wink of the eye, then displayed one of his formidable smile. Hell opened beneath her, her cheeks flushed and her heart began to drum. His charming smile turned into an amused and victorious one. She was furious, how dared he!? Infidel! In a sudden burst of pride, she turned haltingly her face away from his, and made her refusal frown. She clearly heard him chuckled. Apparently, it did not have the effect expected.

_Charming. He whispered.

God, how she wanted to disappear into the ground. Suddenly, people got up; the girls standing by her side started moving to join their family. It was already over? He stopped looking at her and reach for his hat. It was now, or never. Her legs were stocked into the ground, like the pillars supporting the cathedral vaults. She painfully freed them, one after the other, pushed as she was by her instinct of self preservation. She placed as much human shields as possible between them. She turned around and saw that he stood up, and was searching the crowd with his sharp gray eyes. She looked for a way to escape or to hide from him. The confessional was only some steps away. She slalomed between the fidels, making sure to be hidden by some taller than her.

_Justice! She heard Solene call. Wait!

She was going to make him find her! She ran to the closet and looked herself in, her breath was short and laborious. She picked through the crossed wooden window to see her adversary next move. He was going to the archbishop! No! She did not anticipated this! The old one had a big gob! He was going to tell him where she was living!

_Shut up! Shut up! She squealed.

_Boo! Somebody had opened the shutter. _Ah! Justice put her hand on her heart.

Solene sniffed a laughter. Recognizing her, Justice relaxed.

_You gave me goosebumps. She regained her composure

_Are you not a little too old to play hide and seek? She chuckled.

_Shut up, I hope that nobody saw you coming in. She worried.

_No, why? Solene asked.

_I don't want him to see me. Justice whispered.

_Who? The archbishop? I don't want him to see me, either; I stole wine from him, last week. She giggled.

_Not him, the man who is talking to him. She explained her. Do you know him?

_ Yeh, alas. She admit. He is the provost Claude Frollo. Why are you avoiding him? Is he looking for you?

_No, well, yes and no. She did not know how to explain that to her.

_It is unusual for you to do something stupid. She did not understand.

_ I did nothing wrong. This is he. She grumbled. I hope the old one going to hold his tongue and won't tell him where I am living.

_What is going on? Solene furrowed her brows.

_He did not stop starring and smiling at me. Justice revealed her. Doing that inside a church, this is really unacceptable.

_Eh! Eh! Eh! Remember what I've said! She triumphed with a singing voice.

_Hush! She panicked.

_Oops. Solene grimaced.

_They spotted us! She hissed _Sorry. Solene swallowed hard.

_Who is here? The archbishop was coming. Get out!

_ I am going to surrender and...distract them. You could take the next and leave. Solene made a plan hurriedly.

He was coming near Justice's door.

_Hurry up, quick. Justice whispered.

He was ready to open her door when Solene disappeared from her sight. She jumped out by the other side of the confessional.

_Father! She brushed against his cloak with a provocative smile.

Justice hold a scream and signed herself, scandalized.

_I wanted to wait for us to be alone. She teased him.

She kept on turning around him like a swallow, giggling and brushing his cloak with her hips.

_But, you are not patient man, don't you? She chuckled.

_You, little demon! He rumbled. Stop that!

_Father? She sulked while playing with one of her lock around her finger. It is not very kind of you to call me a demon, even though, I am not holy.

_You was waiting for him to take his leave to have some swigs of wine, don't you ? The provost stepped closer to her.

_No, Sir, I cannot in my state. She stroked her belly. But do not think, that I do not want to visit you, do not take it the wrong way.

Justice shut a laughter in her palm in witnessing Solene effrontery.

_Is there only you? He came closer to the other confessional's door.

_Hum, hum. She nodded.

_To whom you was talking to, then? He cocked an eyebrow.

_To myself, I've heard what you was saying and...She lied.

He gave her the silent order to keep her mouth shut and stepped closer to the door. Justice froze; she was hesitating between fleeing, playing dead, or fighting. Fighting, what a silly idea, she would not make it.

_Now! Solene screamed to shake her up.

She hoped like a rabbit and rushed out of her hiding place. The provost jumped backward in surprise; Justice took advantage of the effect, and ran to the closest cathedral's exit.

_Wait! She heard him from the outside. Justice!

She ran as fast as her poor legs allowed her to. She gained the square steps, and disappeared into the crowd. When she felt safer among those of her kind, she briefly looked back. She sighted in relief knowing that he was not pursuing her. She decided to find her family, with a thought for Solene, who was still inside with the two men.


	2. Chapter 2

The provost had the pride and maturity that young men did not have yet. Instead of running after the girl, he chose to obtain her location by using her friend.

_Do you know her? He asked her.

_No. She lied. I don't know neither from Eve nor from Adam.

_Really? Why did you talk to her before mass? He did not believe her.

_I want a lawyer!She crossed stubbornly her arms on her chest.

_Answer me. He ignored her request

_No, not without a lawyer. She persisted.

_It is not an interrogation. He got annoyed. Answer me, or...

_Sanctuary! She squealed.

_Stop, no one is getting arrested. He stared at the ceiling in exasperation.

_Hum! Well, why are you looking for her, then? Hum? She trapped him. If the archbishop didn't tell you anything, well, I won't tell you anything either.

_Never mind. Go on, leave. He let her leave.

Solene gave him a triumphant smile and left the church, scampering along. He beat in retreat and went outside through the main door. He did not want to take the risk to reveal his intentions to the Solene. She would enjoy spreading the word around, and all of Paris would know before sunset. He did not give up anyway. He stood in the shadow of the entrance, waiting for the girl to pass by, and started following her. At least, he would have an idea of what neighborhood he would have to search. Concerning his patrols, his built and his martial abilities brought him to handle the Truanderie did not know much about the City, he would get quickly lost into these narrow streets, shops, dark alleys, and dead ends...this part of Paris was worst than a labyrinth. He saw the baker's daughter turning left in a dark little street. He counted, printed the number in his mind, and slowed down. He could not allow himself to following her too close, she would notice him too easily. He pretended showing some interest in some honey pots and wax candles.

_Good morning, Sir. The owner greeted him.

_Morning. He muttered

_What brought you in Paris' beautiful City? The beekeeper asked him.

_A bad cough. He feigned to cough.

_Oh, I see. I have what you need. Here is some first quality raw honey. One table spoon twice a day, and you will be healed. He showed him a pot.

_This is a very nice pot. He declared between two fake cough.

_Yes, It comes from the Potier family's shop; their daughter has fairy's hands and fingers. He praised the shop next to his. If you could see the plates, vases, and cups, she makes; it is the more beautiful dishes in all of Paris.

_I will walk by. Hum, how much? He wanted to keep their talk short.

_Ten deniers. Five for the pot, I ask you five for the honey. Usually, I ask fifteen, but I make it at ten because it is you. He precised.

_It worth it. He did not want to waste any time bargaining.

_Have a nice day. He paid and left.

_Nice day, and take care. The beekeeper replied.

He put the pot in his pocket and walked into the dark alley There were a terrible noise; he used his hands to cover his ears and walked alongside the wall. Inside the courtyard, a man, as big as him, was hitting on an anvil. A boy, on his way to become as impressive, was keeping the wind bellow Solene was seating down on a wood pile, her ears clogged by her palms, and was yelling in a weird language, which sounded like a blend made of French, Latin, and Picard dialect. He understood the Argot and the Romani, but not this. He had to learn both these languages out of necessity, since most of the immigrants who were pouring into his district did not speak French or Latin at all. It was also a way to earn the new inhabitants trust and kept the turmoil in the Truanderie down. The boy was nodding while staying focused on his work. Claude searched the courtyard with his sharp eyes, and Justice was nowhere to be found. He left empty handed, well with honey pot, at least. He would have some when he would be home, this hunt made him hungry.

Justice and her family had returned home by walking down the street parallel to the one he was taking back. It was really no chance for Claude; he was so close to get his end. He knew that everything was coming in time to the one who could wait. Though, he went back to his empty home.

_Here you are. His servant greeted him. Your lunch is waiting.

_Eh, yeh, I am going to seat down. He distractedly replied.

_Is there something wrong? She worried. You seem strange.

_I got a cold. He kept on playing sick.

_Oh! I got to get you some honey. She became alarmed.

_Do not bother, I got some. He put the pot on the table.

She took it and stared at it,astonished.

_What an adorable little pot! She exclaimed.

She looked at it bottom.

_For sure! She is the only one who knows how to make such things. She declared.

_How do you know that a woman made this pot? He furrowed his brows.

_Potters sign their creation like any artisan. Go ahead, read. She gave it back to him.

He turned the pot up side down and his heart missed a beat.

_Justice. He whispered, brushing the letters with his fingertips.

_She made most of your dishes. She told him. I thought it would look good inside a provost's home, but your guests never read the bottom of their plate.

_So, do I. He took his plate to read the inscription on its bottom. It is a sign from heaven.

_Pardon? She raised her brows.

_Eh, nothing. I need eat. Serve me some of his honey for my dessert, would you? He asked.

_Of course. She took the pot from him.

She came back with some roasted lamb, vegetables, a loaf of bread, some cheese, and a fruits cup. It was a true Easter feast, but he would have to celebrate alone whereas all of Paris was doing it along with their family. He was only starting to eat when she brought the slices of bread and honey. She gave him a cup of herbal tea as well to cure his fake cold. He waited for her to leave and looked the bottom of all his dishes. She made most of them. A man, certainly her father, made the biggest ones. He caught himself brushing his fingers against the details of his plate and cup. He decided to do something terrible , but necessary.

_Forgive me, my sweet. He whispered.

He drank his herbal tea and let his cup fall onto the floor. The object broke up into pieces. He hurriedly gathered them into his table towel and put it into his pocket. He went to the closet and came back with a similar cup that he placed onto the table. Now, he had a good reason to go pay the potter a visit, and talk to him, because he would like a similar cup to replace the broken one. He left the table to get ready for his duty of the afternoon. It would spend it doing interrogation and would write report for the judges. The only idea of having to go to the office made him yawn loudly. He went to his bedroom and put the towel into his night table drawl. His eyes stared at the other table set on the right side of the bed; it had a clean burner and a new candle covered with dust. He sighed

in front of this large bed where he slept alone. He could afford to spend time at the best brothels of Paris. The girls were lovely and always happy to see him. It was not enough, he wanted more from the woman, a woman, his woman. He wanted to feel the warmth emanating from another body laying close to his when he would fall asleep, to see a sweet face at dawn, to have a bunch of kids jumping into his arms in the morning...The most skilled prostitute could never give him this, only a pure woman had this power. A woman like the one he met this morning; he had broken the pretty cup she made. Seeing her innocence, he wanted to play at using his spell on her, and that was he whom got caught as his own game.

_Justice. He whispered and took his jacket off.

He took off the clothes that he wore for mass this morning. They smelt like nag and sweat because he was wearing this outfit during his patrol. He remembered that he did not want to go to Easter mass, it was his friend Roland who forced him to come. He took the lili flower off his jacket. It was the only function attribute in the middle of this luxury. The Provost of the Truanderie office had been created because his district had grown quickly into a little town of its own. The king had wanted his noisy residents to understand that he still had authority on this domain. He had asked his officers to choose or elect the man who could fulfill this mission perfectly. The first time, the provost of Paris had called for a volunteer. A man who would wear a bright red uniform instead of his protective armor and would become a moving target among the truands. The silence fell and their superior had started barking names, including his. On top of this wonderful job,he did promise a pay increase and a horse for the donkey who would step forward. His house was heavy on his sergeant budget, but what he would have done with a paid off house if he was dead? All had thought like him because nobody had taken his offer. Upset, the old one had yelled that he and the other officers would elect a volunteer. Since the main objective of this functions, was to be frightening and keeping the truand in check, by giving to this so called provost the authority to execute direct sentences, and not really to be fulfilling actual office duties, made the choice landed on him, yes, poor him. Worst of all the above, this ass...of Roland gave him his vote as a testimony of his eternal friendship. He thought that no one would refuse a salary increase and a horse. How such an ass...could be a doctor in law? Fortunately that he fixed his mistake by obtaining he wore a dark uniform with only some red stripes for his patrols. Concerning the horse, he was majestic, but he was not trained. The stallion had been bought from a peasant who used him around his farm. The poor thing had not understood what was happening when Claude climbed onto his back, he panicked and had thrown him off to the ground. Himself was not used to horse back riding back in these days, therefore, man and animal had to learn this new skill together. At the contrary of what most could think about this stallion by just looking at him, he has a sweet temperament. He was as kind as he was strong. The kids from the Truanderie had baptized it Snowball for the reason that, instead of getting mad, the stallion was eating the snow that the little truands was throwing at him. Then, it was showing them his teeth to beg for more that it probably was taking for a treat. Despite he loved his new companion, he thought that we was more happy as a simple sergeant. This new title was only about more paperwork on top of the loss of his armor that did not protect him from being stabbed anymore. Well, his pay had increased since then, but he was still being treated like a sergeant by his superiors, who were actual royal officers and they did not miss an opportunity for reminding him this difference of status. He put his black and red uniform on, moodily. How he would like to show them what happened to those who annoyed a Frollo. Alas, since he could break their tiny spines onto his laps, their attacks were very subtle; it was a word, a stare, a tone...They referred to his origins and to his past by saying things such as " A man such as yourself must understand those ones nature."Also, they had a way to mispronounce his name and the way some were staring at him unveiled their contempt. He was not high nobility because his ancestors had fought instead of gathering money, lands, and title, being part of plots and betrayal, or bowing themselves in front of their king. The Frollo did not bow in front of anyone, neither they crawled to kiss their king's feet; they fought and died for him. He put the lily flower back on his uniform and stared at his reflection. How did he looked like in those buffoon clothing? What his ancestors were thinking of him? If there was still a Rome, he would be a gladiator seating at the senate. The bells brought his thoughts to an end. He sighed like a child having to go to class along with a fussy teacher instead of going playing outside. He tied his arms belt, put his red cloak and his hat on, then he left the room. Criminals did not know holidays nor Sundays, so did he.

At meantime, at the City, the Potier, Vernal , and Brieul, families were celebrating Easter. Wine was flowing out in abundance and the food that woman cooked in the bakery oven was delicious. The baker was happy to be a grandfather in becoming and he couldn't stop this rush of joy from coming out of him.

_Eh you, the Justice, when? The baker asked her in hitting his big lower belly. Eh, you're almost sixteen, you don't have the eternity, eh. When will you marry?

_What do you think about never? She snarled.

_Eh, still not in love, eh? He pushed the potter with his elbow. Well, she will get there!

_Eh! I didn't tell you! Justice ha-outch! Solene stopped because Justice crushed her foot.

_Go on! The potter encouraged her.

_Have you met a boy, chicklet? Her mother asked Justice.

The answer appeared on her flushing cheeks.

_Awww! The others were moved by her embarrassment.

_Eh! Not a boy, her friend denied, a man, and not any one.

_None sens! I didn't talk to him, to begin with. Justice stammered ,confused.

_Who is he? The potter grew curious.

_Claude Frollo. The Solene sold her friend.

_Don't know him. Solene's father frowned. What he's doing for living? Frollo...Frollo...What's that? A brewer? A weaver?

_Hope he's not a Lombard. Solene's mother twisted her nose in distrust. Frollo, that doesn't sound very Frankish.

_He doesn't seem French, that's why I don't want him. Justice grasped the opportunity.

_You don't want him, my butt. The Solene giggled. Who wouldn't want such a man?

_Eh! Pierre grumbled. _Awww, you're jealous! Solene pinched her frowning fiance's cheek.

_That;s still doesn't tell us who is her Ostrogoth. The baker muttered.

_He's not my Ostrogoth! Justice grew irritated. Eat, dat gonna be cold.

_Really, no one know who Claude Frollo is? The Solene was surprised. He's the Truanderie provost!

She was proud of her effect. The silence fell onto the table, everybody's eyes opened wide and their jaws dropped.

_With that name, she could only catch a man of the law. She added.

_He! He's a drunk! The baker's wife exclaimed.

_I've also heard that he was a womanizer. The potter's wife furrowed her brows.

_My clients say that when he's not riding his horse, he ride the Val d'Amour's girls. The baker clarified. A fiery bunny that one.

_That certainly because he's not French. His wife thought. This Italians haven't good manner.

_Yeh. He's played at smiling and staring at me. Justice saw another opportunity. In a church! _I believed he was a Lombard. The baker did not catch up on his wife.

_I don't know what he's he. His wife grunted in exasperation. Frollo, that may be Italian; They all have weird name ended up in o their.

_In Spain, too. The potter scratched his chin.

_Yeh, and in France as well. He only is ill-mannered and Solene doesn't know what she's talking about.

Justice wanted to bring the conversation to an end.

_Eh, yeh that I know! She laughed. He wanna know where you was living. Then, he scared you so bad that you hid into the confessional.

_I did not want him to follow me, that all. She replied.

_Nah, he wanted talk to you and you fled. He even asked to me and to the archbishop where you was living. He interrogated me, without a lawyer, and I believed that he would deny my sanctuary right.

_Really? Justice is that true? Her father asked.

_I panicked, she plainly admitted, I don't know what he wants from me.

_The provost want to marry the Justice. The Solene lifted her chin up.

Her bright idiom made the table laughed and Justice left it, very upset.

_I think I got her soft spot. Solene whispered watching her friend leaving the room.

_Justice, we're only teasing you, that's all. Her mother tried to calm her down.

_Enough talking, I am crawling beneath my orders. She haughty left them.

She crossed down the street and walked to her shop. She moodily climbed up the stairs. Once she was in her bedroom, she furiously took her veil off, snatched the roses off her hair, and crunched them under her feet. She took her white dress off and put her gray working clothing on. She carelessly plaited her brownish golden locks and hide them under a scarf. She was about to step out of her room when she ran into Solene.

_You! Judas! What are you doing here! She raged.

_I...She wanted to enter her room.

_I believed that you was my friend! Why did you tell them? Why! She burst into tears.

_Better that they learned it from us than from him. She simply said seating onto her bed. He going to come, you know.

_He surely forgot about me already! He must be celebrating Easter at the brothel! You! You! You humiliated me! She loudly sobbed.

_I don't think he went to the brothel after the effect you had on him. She aggravated.

Solene rarely was so serious. She had many imperfections, but telling lies was not once of her vices.

Justice swallowed her tears hardly.

_If he's as interested as I think he is, and he seemed like it, Frollo would stick to you, like a fly on a cow's butt. She predicted.

_What can I do? Tell me. She wiped her tears. You know how to deal with men.

_He's not a boy, he's not like Pierre. She sighed. I can't help you with that. But...I may explain you how to satisfy him when you both will be married.

_Oh! Shut up! She crossed herself.

_It's part of life. If making love is a sin, then we'll all are sins. Even this good archbishop came out of a woman's womb because a man sowed him into it. She lifted up her shoulders.

_I'll go to the cluster, he can't go against God. She decided. I'll be free, at last.

_Seriously? Solene frowned astonished. To locked yourself into a cluster, you call that freedom?

_He's a sinner, an infidel. She dried her eyes off with the back of her sleeve. I don't want him.

_He's a middle class man..You don't know how many girls would cut their hands off to swap their places with you. She stood up. A potter, and a bourgeois, damn, its a benediction falling upon you.

_A benediction. She whispered. To be unhappy and betrayed until death do us a part, you call that a benediction.

_Eh, the marriage may change him. It's the way life works. Solene lifted her shoulders up

_May God hear you. Justice sighed.

_Come back with us, Solene took her hand. No one will talk about that ever again, I promise.

_All right. She accepted.

Justice and Solene took their seats back around the table. The celebration lasted until dusk. All hugged each other before to going up to bed, save for the baker who had to make his bread.

Claude Frollo decided to come back home directly after taking off. His servant seemed very surprised to see him, but she garded herself of asking him why he did not went out for having "fun".

_I am sick, I will go to bed early tonight. He responded to her silent question.

_I am going to cook you dinner. She walked to the kitchen.

While he was working. He did not think about Justice, nor to his eternal single life. All his coworkers were married, had children, and a sweet and organized little life. He stopped in front of his own portrait and sighed. He looked so serious, yet at thirty he was still going after the wench and dragging himself to the tavern. He knew of the reputation he had in Paris. It explained why a pious girl had ran away when he tried to talk to her. He thought about the broken cup laying into his night table's drawl. How was he going to do it? Would he talk to her father first? Would he ask to see her, then? He could imagine her seating in front of her potter wheel, making a beautiful jug with her long sharp hands. Her beautiful hair carelessly arranged into a half made bun, she would dry the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, then she would put a rebel lock back behind her white ear, and would stain her round cheek with clay. He would kneel in front of her to wipe it off with his thumb, she would take his hand into hers, and...

_Hum. His servant interrupted him by clearing her throat.

_What? He growled.  
_Forgive me, but the judge is here. She announced Roland.

_Hum, bring him in. He went to the closet to take two wine cups out. Bring us some bread and cheese.

_Yes. She walked back to the kitchen.

He put the cups and the wine bottle on the table. His friend's footsteps were coming closer while he was pulling the chairs.

_Why are your honoring me with such a late visit, my dear? He turned toward his guest.

_I did not think I would find you here at such hour. He cocked an eyebrow.

_I am not feeling well this evening, I chose to coming back home instead of going wild. He smiled in offering a seat.

_In that case, you should not drink, he sat down, unless, you would be suffering of some pleasant but incurable illness.

_Come to the fact. He took a seat.

_Justice, he pushed his cup toward Claude who was opening the bottle, you know, the little one you have frightened this morning.

_I did not frighten her. He frowned his brows while serving him.

_Really? He laughed. I saw her running like if the devil was pursuing her.

_The Solene told her to flee. He served himself in wine.

_Is she friend with this nuisance? He was amused.

_Apparently. He lifted his shoulders up. Cheer!

_Cheer! The provost shocked his cup with the judge's.

They took a sip of wine and stared intensively at each other. The judge seemed to be thinking about his next sentence, to be weighting his words, and the provost was waiting.

_When you are coming here so late, either the city is in great danger, or you think that I am this danger. Claude tried to make him speak. Tell me what is troubling you, Roland.

_Do you really want to marry this girl? He answered by the interrogative.

_Yes, I was trying to find a proper way to bring that up to her father. He said.

_Are you really serious? His eyes widened in stupefaction.

_More than serious, you should be glad. He took a sip from his cup.

Roland waited for answering him because the servant was coming with the bread and cheese plate.

_Help yourself. Claude did not let him time to reply.

_Thank you. He took the knife to cut himself a slice of Brie cheese.

He took a piece of bread and focused on putting his cheese on it delicately. He put the knife back and saw that Claude was still staring at him with his intense silvery eyes.

_You needn't to put gloves on with me. He helped himself with the food. Share your thought with me, which is, unless I am wrong, the reason of your visit.

The judge hastily had stuffed his mouth to gain some precious time. He liked Claude, he did not want to hurt him or to be falling out with him. He slowly chewed under the provost inquisitive stare. He made some circular motions with his hand to let him know that he would have to wait for him to swallow. Claude started moving his fingers on the wooden table in impatience.

_Do I need to use the forceps? He furrowed his eyes.

Roland swallowed loudly and had a swig of wine.

_It won't be needed. He wiped up his mouth.

_Come on. He was aggravating him.

_This girl, Justice, she seems very sweet and very good in all aspects... He started and stopped to seek his word.

_But...Claude encouraged him to pursued with a lazy move of the hand.

The judge bite into his bread slice and went for his cup.

_Hurry up, or you will dine and maybe sleep here. The provost complained. It would not bother me, I have more food than I need and many bedrooms upstairs, but Blanche would miss you tonight.

Roland chewed a little faster, swallowed, and drank some wine.

_If she was a tradesman's daughter, he took back where he stopped, your union would be almost acceptable, but...

_She's a craftman's daugher, he got mad, her father's a potter! Damn it! Why are you annoying me! You damn fool! Damn Jackass!

_Calm down. He raised his palm up.

_I am calm! He hit the table violently.

Claude took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. He stared back to Roland who had turned pale.

_The Potier are not her actual parents, they adopted her. He informed him.

_What? He frowned in incredulity.

_She's from the social services, Claude. He finally exposed the fact. She has not been conceived in wedlock. She might be issued from any secret union if you know what I am talking about.

_Of course I do, he cocked am eye brow, Do I have to remind that I go to the brothel?

_An officer, such as yourself, should not have such spouse. Roland seemed sorry.

_Nobody needs to know that, hold your tongue and everything will be alright. Claude sighed.

_Almost all the Palace of Justice already know it. He told him.

_You! He raised from his seat. You damn...

_I did not tell anything! He left his chair in panic. They already knew it!

_How! Claude bowed toward him, his face red in anger.

._I was searching the archives, looking for her file. The clerk asked me if he could help me. I gave him her name. He told him. He went to the public assistance section, and found her birth certificate.

He took two scrolls out of his robe and handed it to him. Claude grabbed them, unfolded them, and started reading them. Only her first name appeared on her birth certificate along the unknown parents close.

_Presumably born on the sixth day of November of our Lord year fourteen twenty nine. Found inside the walls of the Palace of Justice on the seventh day of November of our Lord year fourteen twenty nine. He read.

_Do you understand why everybody knows, now?Roland sat back on his seat.

_Yes, and I would marry her twice instead of once. Claude handed him the scrolls.

_Excuse me? He was astonished.

_It's obvious. He raised his eyes to the ceiling. She has been brought up to the Palace of Justice because it is in her fate that she has to marry a man of the law, and it will be me.

_How did you make up such a fantasy? He was amused. From where is your inspiration coming from?

_From God. He answered pointing at the cross setting behind Roland.

_What does God has to do with your stories, Claude? He softly chuckled.

_Such signs from heaven, I saw them since I met her. He started. At church, she tripped over my legs and I heard her beautiful name. Her shoe! I accidentally dragged her shoe beneath me, you know what that mean, don't you?

_Not really, but go on, it is interesting. He smiled.

_This morning, when we were singing, I was in total osmosis with her. I was sinking into her eyes, I could feel her. He described his experience. After she left, I've followed the Solene in hope that she would lead me to her. There, in total ignorance, I bought a pot made from her hand. I was two steps away from her shop.

_Well, the little ones must be neighbors, no doubt. I do not see anything divine in such fact. Roland was skeptical. And for the singing, I could put that on your daily hangover.

_There is more! My house is filled with her dishes, and I ignored it until today. You see, she has always been nearby me. He finished.

_I do not know if all of this would be the fruit of your imagination or a divine intervention. However, I am sure that you are in love, Claude. Roland concluded.

_I think so. He smiled meekly.

_You won't change your mind, do you? He sighed.

_No, he confirmed, she could be a whore and a drunk's daughter, that I still wouldn't care.

_Well, at least, I would have warned you. Roland emptied his cup.

He left his seat and gave Claude a fraternal embrace.

_I wish you goodnight, he let him go, and I thank you for the wine and the cheese.

_Would you accept her? He asked his friend.

_Me? Of course, you are my friend, and I wish to see you happy. He declared. But I do not know how the others would react.

_I am the provost who patrols the Truanderie and get drunk at the brothel. He reminded him. My reputation cannot get any worst than it already is.

He decided to walk Roland back to the main entrance.

_To marry Justice would not improve it, Roland predicted, even, it could harm your career.

_The provost complains about my behavior and threatened to punish me. He muttered. Alas, he cannot give the Truanderie to somebody else. If he wanted to replace me, it would be done already.

_Yes, you rule this district with an iron fist. Roland admitted.

_The provost yearned for seeing me walk in the right path, well, his prayer would be answered. In regards of my reputation, he would not be surprised that I marry a nobody. He opened him the door. I see her as respectable and that what matter to me.

_I agree, see you tomorrow. Roland left him.

_See you tomorrow. He locked up the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Claude was turning into his bed. He had thoughts, memories, of furious charges and battlefield; villages, towns, and crops, set on fire. Shadows were running and screaming; shields and armors were loudly shocking against one another; lances and swords were shining and plunging into bodies with no faces; the blood was dripping, flowing, sticking. "Run! Run!" He was yelling to the shadows. Bow's strings snapped and an arrow hit him. He felt on the ground and saw many falling upon the group of dark figures. "No!" he was howling in pain and sorrow while life was vanishing around him and leaving him. There were only silence and darkness, save for the fire and men furiously roaring. He heard the crows sinister caws and felt the cold touch of death.

_AH! He woke up in a jump of terror.

He looked around him and only saw darkness. He put his hand on the left side of his abdomen. Instead of thick warm blood, he sensed a scar. The door opened . Someone was holding a dagger in her hand. He instinctively back up, his eyes wide opened, and reached for his sword.

_This just me. I heard you screaming. She put her arm down. I thought you was being attacked.

He finally relaxed in recognizing the inside of his room and her known voice. He kicked the blankets off him and left the bed. He did not bother to dress up and walked toward her with only his hooses on. She did not react since she used to it. He had served with her husband, and now she was serving him. She trusted him. He would not touch her, nor harm her, and he would protect her from him if he was coming for her.

_Bring me some wine. He passed Jeanne.

_Yes. She nodded.

He should have gone to the brothel. Women promiscuity and alcohol were doing his nights going easier. He sat down and heavily sighed. The servant came back with a plate of deli and a pitcher of wine. He followed her hips balancing motion while she was walking toward him. She put his food and drink on the table in avoiding his insistent stare. She cleared her throat to let him know that he was making her feeling uncomfortable.

_Jeanne, is your husband came back home? Is he still alive? He poured himself some wine.

_He's alive, she whispered, he's home, but he's not the same.

_War changes men, he took a sip of wine, Does he still loves you?

_Yes, I... think so. She stammered. Now, I...am retur...I am going to bed.

He caught her by her arm and gently dragged her toward him.

_Why are you spending your nights here, if you think that he still loves you? He looked at her straight into the eyes.

_Since when, he didn't touch you. He brushed his lips against her wrist thin sensible skin.

_What are you doing? She shivered and tried to free herself from his grip.

_You're so soft. He passed his arm around her waist in an attempt to seat her down on his laps.

_Go take your pleasure elsewhere, Claude! She pushed against his shoulders.

_All right! He let her go a bit frustrated. I won't insist!

_You wan't to know why I don't go back home, do you? She sniffed to contain her tears. I won't return because my last boy is gone to the war. Guillaume won't go anymore because he's mad. He drinks and scares me. I can't even look at him; he would beat me, even rape, or kill me ,whereas you, you wouldn't.

_I'm sorry, Jeanne. He looked at her ashamed. I shouldn't have asked you and...

_I'm fine, and I thank you for letting me stay here. She interrupted him. Good night, Claude.

She precipitately took her leave and climbed up the stairs. Claude heard her locked herself up, and he blamed himself for his misconduct. What was he thinking about? She was older than he, married, and mother of three. He emptied his cup in one big gulp and let it fall down onto the table. He took his head between his hands, crushed it, as so it would make the war memories go away.

Claude woke up with a terrible headache. This spring morning light was hurting his eyes. What time it was? What day? He hastily put his shirt on. Monday, it was Monday, he had no reason to be rushing, he would start working tonight. He was still feeling drunk from last night and ran into the dressing table.

_Damn it! He cursed it.

Why did he buy such thing? He did not have a wife! He poured some fresh water into the basin that Jeanne brought in while he was sleeping his wine off. He threw water on his face and drank some at the same time to ease his thirst. He splashed the mirror in wetting his hair with the hope that it would make his migraine go away. It was still here, but he was feeling better already. He dried his face with a towel perfumed with lavender. The hammering in his head started to slow down. He looked at his watery reflection. He had black circles beneath his eyes, and looked exhausted. He decided to shave and saw that his hand was trembling due to his last night excess. He went slowly to avoid cutting himself. Once time he was done, he combed his hair in an attempt to look presentable. He was going to grab his jacket when his knee hurt the night table.

_Damn it! He grunted.

He had heard the complaint of the broken cup. He put his jacket on, opened the drawl to take the object still wrapped into his table towel. He placed it in his pocket and put his boots on. Then, he left the room and saw Jeanne carrying some laundry. He remembered the incident of last night and did not know what to tell her. He noticed the herbal tea setting on the table. He recognized the scent of the mix she used to ease his difficult following days. She was so prevenant, attentionate, and he, he had treated her like a vulgar brothel's wench. He sighed in embarassment, hoping to get her attention. She briefly looked at him in a sidelong glance and lifted up the basket to walk into his bedroom.

_Thank you. He muttered.

_You're welcome. She whispered passing him.

_I'm sorry. He added on the same laconic tone.

_I know. She opened the bedroom door.

He just apologized, she seemed to have accepted, but he was not feeling better though. He sat down in front of his cup and distractely brushed against the clay little details. Justice Potier had broken his lifestyle made of bad habits just by tripping on him. He only had to burn into her deep hazel eyes to want to become worthy of her. He was not feeling well today, but the fact that he did not soil his body last night was giving him back some self esteem. He was going to see her today. He was trying to plannify their meeting, to prepare some words for her and her father...He had drinken, but not as much as usual. He thought it was strange to have such headache after drinking one pitcher of wine. His hand was strangely trembling arounf his cup. He put it down and tried to take control over, what he supposed it was ,some nervosity. He grabed the empty jug and sighed before to put it down.

_Do you want some wine? Jeanne was coming back with his bedsheets.

_No, I'm not feeling very well, I shouldn't. He declined.

_Well, she smiled, I'll see you at noon.

He gave her a lazy sign of the hand and brought it on his forehead. He sipped on his herbal tea and noticed that his liver was hurting as well. For how long did he was drinking in excess? He had lost the count of the years he spent at drinking and loosing his body with some strange woman every night. Claude was feeling guilty by only thinking about his misconduct. He won't set a foot into a tavern or a brothel ever again. He wanted to become a better man for Justice. Yes, a good husband for this girl that he barely knew...he laughed. Maybe he only was thinking and walking straight when he was drunk, after all. Roland was right, it was not making any sense, that was why he was going for it. On this thought, he left the table and taped the cup laying into his pocket. He crossed the hall way and hesitated in front of the door. He laughed of himself, thinking that he was stupid to be as anxious as a boy before his first date. He left his house and walked through the square to go fetch his horse. He greeted some guards and officers on his way to the stable. He was smiling, which was unusual, and some people slowed him down by trying to start chatting with him.

_Good day for a ride, Sir. The stable lad brought him his stallion. Snowball ate well and slept well too, and he...

_Thank you for your good care, son. But not time to chat, I have a lot to do. He politely dismissed the boy.

_God be with you, Sir. He handed him the reins.

_God be with you too, son. He bowed his head.

He gave two kick to his horse and set off at a trot. He remembered the way through the narrow City's street. He guided his imposing stallion down the Forges street forcing the crowd to step aside. Many were starring at them with wide eyes, others seemed to worry and wonder what was bringing them into the quiet City district. He heard people whispers and regretted to have taken his horse. What he was thinking about? "You was thinking that Snowball would impress her and put her down on her knees. Well, good job Claude, everyone is afraid of both of you" he blamed himself. The stallion had stopped and, the noise of something falling on the ground, brought him back into the moment. A man was backing off horrified while his apples were rolling off his stand. Snowball had stick his big head into the fruits pile and was generously stuffing himself. Claude's jaw dropped with dismay. He pulled on the reins; Snowball protested by whining loudly and hammering the ground with his large hooves.

_It's fine, officer, he can have as much as as he wants. The merchant grew paler.

"officer?" Claude felt a cold sweat starting to drip onto his back. He looked down at his chest ;he realized that he was wearing his badge and his dark uniform. "You fool! You believed that the uniform would spell her or what? Damn boyish idiot!" He managed to drive his horse away from the stand, pushing more shivering people aside. He went for his purse and took a handful of coins that he handed to the merchant as a compensation. The man carefully walked toward him to take it.

_Thank you, officer. He bowed his head down.

Claude nodded and kicked Snowball to resume his journey.

_He gave me one ecu! It's gold! He heard the merchant exclaimed. True gold!

He focused on his surrounding to avoid any other incident. Finally, he saw a sign hanging on the front of a shop; he recognized his sweet one's last name and trade. He got down of his horse and his heart started racing. He puffed to relax and tied Snowball up to a pilar.

_Wish me good luck. He petted him.

The stallion snorted while his owner disappeared inside the dark shop. A scent of hot clay was filling the heavy dusty air. He was expecting something bigger and had to walk through carefully to avoid breaking anything. He heard a regular scraping noise coming from behind an old curtain. It sounded like a wheel for sharpening swords. Curious, he came closer the grey piece of clothe, which had seen better days.

_Good morning, Sir. He heard a voice calling him. How may I help you today?

Claude turned toward the potter and felt his throat getting tight. He thought he was pathetic to be so nervous, especially at his age. He took the tableclothe out of his pocket and opened it on the broken cup.

_I want another one, he painfully articulated his words, maybe a bit different one.

_Justice! The potter called his daughter. Client!

The scraping noise coming from behind the curtain stopped and he only heard a dying rubbing. The girl appeared from behind the curtain and yelped in seing him. She was almost as such he imaginated her, save that she had covered her hair with an old scarf. They glanced at each other, prey and hunter were meeting again, but who was who? Claude started to doubt of his ascendant on her. She had an intense stare for a girl of her age and did not seem intimidated anymore. She looked at him straight into the eyes, as would a raptor do, damn what happened to the shy sweet nightingale?

_His cup is broken, the potter broke the odd silence, I think he would like you to make another one.

_Hum, exactly. He pained to catch his breath.

_Show me that. She looked at the pieces laying in his palm. Hmm, I see. I'll take care of that.

Her voice was so sweet but her look was so venimous. Claude wanted to reply but words were stucked into his throat. She returned into her workshop in silence and the scraping noise resumed. Voila, his plan just failed and he was standing like an idiot in the middle of the shop.

_Judging by your uniform, I'd say that you're Claude Frollo. The potter guessed.

_Hmm. He nodded staring at the curtain.

_You came to see my daughter, don't you? He pursued.

_Yeh, I'd like to talk to her. He confirmed.

Her father encouraged him to enter her workshop with a swift move of his hand. He understood that he had his benediction to court her. He opened the curtain and she gave him a quick glance before focusing back on her task. He was about to seat but she stopped him with a dark look.

_It'll take some time. Come back tomorrow at the same hour, it'll be ready. She said.

_Justice, I...He seek his words.

_You broke it. She threw some clay on her wheel. I've to redo it, it'll cost you three deniers, and it'll be ready tomorrow, what else?

_I'd like to take you somewhere, this afternoon, or maybe tomorrow. He offered.

_I' m overwhelmed, she dryly replied, I've no time for distractions.

_I could arrange that with your father. He insisted.

_I said no, she dig a hole into the clay, you gave me extra work by breaking your dishes to come here. The last thing I'd do would be to give you some of my time whereas honest customers would be waiting for their order.

_ You think me dishonest. He sat down in front of her.

_Correct, you brought up like an accident something you've willingly done. She replied.

_What makes you say that? He stared at her.

_The handle is still attached to the body. That tells me that you hold it up and let it fell on the floor. She showed him the piece.

_Yes, I broke it, he admitted, because I wanted to see you. I am thinking about you all the time since I met you at mass. I've been abstinent from flesh and wine yesterday, I've not been since...since...

_Good for you, she approved, Alcohol, and public girls, would pollute your temple.

He stared at her hands slipping around the clay and a shiver ran into his spine. He imagined that her touch was sensual and unholy thoughts started harassing him. He had to go.

_I'm leaving and I'm leaving you working, and think about my request. He said.

_My parents are glad that you show me such interest. She focused on making a recipient. You'd get whatever you want, as long as the offer's honest.

_Is that a yes! He was overjoyed.

_Concerning myself, it's and will always be a no, but I can't leave my parents behind for going to a cluster. Especially after everything they've done for me. She whispered, resigned.

_Enter the orders, what a silly idea. You don't want any children, nor a man to love you and taking care of you. He seemed surprised.

_I don't want to be your thing. She clarified. You're talking about love whereas you know me from yesterday. In fact, you don't know me at all. You just saw me, and now, you want me. When you'll be bored, you'll go back to your old habits.

His jaw droped; she tried to get some water from a bucket. She puffed and stood up to grab the empty recipient. Naturally, he got back on his feet and wished to help her carrying the heavy thing.

_Thank you, but I can do it. She stood between him and the bucket.

_Justice, he took her hands, you can make me a better man, if you want me.

_I...she felt trapped. I don't want you.

_Charming. Her refusal frown made him melt.

He felt that her hands were shaking and he gripped them tight. Her body was not lying; at least, she may thought that he was attractive.

_My hands. She drowned into his gray eyes.

_Each time you say no, I am falling in love with you, futhermore. He dragged her close to him.

_What's you...Stop...Get off me...I...Don't know you. She stammered.

She started panting at his body contact; he bent toward her and caught her lips. She protested against his greedy mouth, pushing on her arms to free herself. He gave her little brief smacks.

_Hmm! She punched against his shoulders.

He let her go by breaking the kiss in a sucking noise. She staggered and brought her fingers to her lips. She stared at him, troubled; he brushed against her cheek and stole another kiss from her. She gasped and blinked.

_See you tomorrow. He left the workshop.

The potter was waiting no far from the workshop. He was pretending to be classing his items, which were properly organized already. He saw the provost coming out with a light smile on his face. The artisan walked toward him. Claude stared at his covered with clay hands. His throat was tighted, it was strange that he was feeling nervous after their interview still; he should not.

_Is everything all right? The potter asked.

_Yes. He answered.

_She said yes!? He seemed surprised.

_No, she said no. He sighed. Good day.

_Good day. The potter replied.

He left the shop and walked to his horse. He untied Snowball from the pillar. The clay covering his hands, on top of his tremors, made it hard for him to get on his stallion. He clicked his tongue and the horse started walking. He did not want to set off at a trot. He really was not feeling well. He was shaking, his throat was tighed still, now he was feeling nauseous and had a cold sweat. He was going to lay down and it would go away.

Justice was waiting in the shop with her bucket. Her father came to and smiled at her.

_Is he gone? She asked.

_Yeh, but he will be back. He answered a bit irritated.

_I don't like him. She passed him. He's a pig.

_Really? He was amused.

_Yeh, he's disgusting. She grunted. He kissed me on the mouth. It's nasty.

_It was your first kiss. He was moved.

_Ah! She left aggravated.

_Where are you going? He called after her.

_Get some water! Don't imagine that I'm going to meet him! She spat. Never!

She heard him chuckled and she stormed out of the store. She did not see the iron craftsman's son plotting with a kid on the other side of the street. He gave him some coins, the urchin nodded and started following her to the wheel. Justice dropped the block until she heard the bucket meet the water below. She pulled on the string to draw the bucket back. She took it and placed it on the edge of the wheel. She puffed and dried her forehead with the back of her arm. She saw a little boy waiting nearby her. She smiled at him and bend to reach her bucket. The kid grabbed her head scarf and her hair fell into her eyes.

_Eh! She reacted gathering her locks. Give me that!

_The scarf for a fiance kiss. He repeated the iron craftsman's words without understanding them.

_You can't be my fiance, you're too little. Give it back! She tried to take her scarf from him.

_A scarf to kiss the fiance! He ran away.

_What!? Thief! She angrily went after him. Thief!

The urchin looked back and widely opened his eyes; the Justice was charging him like a ram. He scampered off before he could give the scarf to the iron craftsman's son. The teenager had to take part to the run. "Thief!" "Thief!"Claude heard the screams, despite he was not in his district nor in service, he sighed and went to his duty. He pulled on the slippery reins and turned around. The craftsman's son passed Justice and grabbed his little associate to take the scarf from him. Once the kid was free, he ran away. Justice faced the older boy with fists clenched on her hips. He smiled and played with her scarf.

_Phiphi! Give that back! She stamped her foot.

_For a fiance kiss. He purred.

_What about a black eye?! She raised her fist.

_Ohhh! He mocked her. You would hit me, don't you?

_Yeh! And better twice than once! Don't you have anything better to do! She exploded. Go to work! You lazy!

The boy nodded and swallowed hard. He let the scarf fell onto the ground and quickly ran away.

_That's it! Go away! She kept on moving out of control. You should be ashamed! Good-at-Nothing!

She did not notice that the provost was standing back behind her. He was the reason of the boy's surrender. She heard somebody chuckled and felt a warm heavy breath on the back of her neck. She jumped out in surprise and her hand accidentally slapped the horse's nose. He whinnied. She turned around and saw it arching on its hind-legs. Its two huge hooves were about to crash on her. She screamed and crossed her arms in front of her face. Claude pulled on the reins to take control of his stallion. His hands covered with slippery clay let the leather go; he fell off the horse.

_No! Justice howled.

He had fallen onto his back and was not moving. The horse calmed down and brushed against his owner's shoulder as he wanted to encourage him to stand up. Justice carefully walked toward them; the animal snorted and backed up. She knelt by the rider side. She pushed against his shoulder and saw that he did not have any reaction. She felt an intense pain into her chest. She put her hand on her heart as she had just been stabbed. Would that be the Cupido's arrow that Solene was talking about? She did not like this man though. Or maybe...a little...when he was not stubbornly following her, and annoying her, and...she liked seeing him after all. Maybe she liked him a lot actually.

_God. She put her head on his chest. Wake-up.

She noticed with relief that his chest was moving up and down. The people had started to flock toward the scene. She lifted her head up and stared at Claude's face. The stink in her heart became a sweet fire. He warmed her stomack up and she started feeling the butterflies in her belly. Justice also felt something warm beneath her knee. She looked down and saw a red liquid running from his head and soaking her skirt. It was blood, a lot of blood. She went back on earth, totally in panic. His life was in danger! The public was staring at them with wide eyes.

_Help! Go get some help! She pleaded.

She gently placed his head onto her laps and started to press against the wound with the bottom of her dress. Claude's eyes slightly opened and she gave him a sorry smile.

_I shouldn't have called on a thief for a scarf, it was really a stupid move. She was afflicted. I should have known that you'd hear and would come back for such vain thing. Maybe that my lonely soul called you; only to get a reason to make our interview last longer. It is what we're looking for when we're in love, but when the heart and the soul don't know it so, right?

He blankly stared at her. He was seeing a woman with an aura of light falling upon her hair. She had an angel like face. She was talking to him, even though he did not understand a word of what she was telling him, he felt that she purely was loving him. Her voice sounded like a liturgy, he was hearing some flutes whistled and a divine choir.

_I'm dead. He whispered.

_Hush, no. She dried up the sweat off his forehead. You feel off your horse. You'll be fine, eh.

The choir was the crowd whispers denouncing her act. She had put an officer's life in danger for an old piece of cloth, then she had hit the horse's nose and made him fall. It was only the truth.

_I'm sorry. She sobbed.

_Out of my way! Justice heard somebody hissing in the crowd.

She turned her head toward him; she was in tears. The man did not seem to care.

_You moved him! He exclaimed. Don't you think that you have done enough, wench!?

_Sir, I had to, he's bleeding. She wept.

_We never move a man who fell from his horse! He snapped. I should get you arrested! Guards!

Justice shivered and the soldiers were coming close to her, ready to seize her.

_No. The provost moaned. Let her be.

The soldiers promptly backed up. A group of men joined them with a stretcher. The doctor pushed her aside, he started pressing against the wound with a clean linen cloth. Justice went back on her foot and stepped back. He quickly evaluated the gravity of the fall when he saw her bloody dress. She almost was soaked to the third. His own cloth was not getting so much blood. He bowed his head toward the crying girl.

_I take back my words, you saved him. Now, get out! He hissed.

_Where are you taking him? She saw the guard lifting up the stretcher.

_To the Hotel-Dieu, where do you want us to take him? He shacked his head.

Justice watched the group moving away, the crowd dispersed. After she saw the soldiers disappearing at the Abbaye street's corner, she decided to walk back home. She crossed the Changeur's square and walked down the Forges' street. People backed up in seeing her bloody dress. Her mind seemed blank, and she was as pale as a ghost. Nobody dared to ask her what's happened to her. The fear of the truands, army deserters, gypsies...pouring more or less legally into Paris had reduced the honest City's tradesmen to silence. Until now, assault, rape, and murder, of citizens were only rumors in their district. Solene was selling a loaf of bread to a charmed a soldier when she saw her.

_Justice! She screamed in horror.

_Eh! Where ya going! The costumer called after her. Eh!

_Solene. She puffed.

_What's happened to you? She cupped her face.

Justice sobbed and stammered some unintelligible sentences.

_What? The provost you say? She frowned her brows.

_My change! The soldier insisted.

Solene sighed and turned back toward the soldier.

_Ya want it today! Go to my mom! She sent him away.

_See you tomorrow. The soldier bowed his head down in defeat.

_ This one. She raised her brows. So tell me, what's happened? Where that blood comes from?

_The provost, she sniffed, I made him fall off his horse. It was an accident, I didn't mean to.

_Of course, you didn't. She passed her arm around her waist. Let me take you home.

_That's not the only thing, She wiped her tears off. I think...that I am falling in love with him.

Solene sighed and brought her head on her shoulder. Phiphi just joined them with the bucket that Justice had left next to the wheel.

_She loves me! Phiphi overjoyed. Justice, you love me?

Justice addressed him a refusal frown.

_No, Sire, Solene answered, she wants a man, a real one, with hairs on his chest!

_I got hairs! He opened the top of his shirt. Look Justice! I got hairs!

Justice had a poor laughter.

_I can grow a beard if that'd please you! He added.

_Back off! It's an expression, hide me that! Solene was amused. She wants a solid man, tall, blond, with shiny silvery eyes, riding a black steed and who carries a sword.

_The officer? He understood. You're engaged to the officer! But Justice...he's...an...officer!

_Yeh, yeh, yeh, The Solene confirmed, an officer is an officer, who's best for the Justice, hmm?

Phillipe left Justice's bucket in front of the Potier's shop and walked away disappointed. Justice started crying again. Solene bent and took the bucket.

_He'll be fine. She tried to comfort her.

_He's going to die. She sobbed.

_Nah, he'll be fine. He wouldn't be an officer if he was a softy. She gently pushed her inside the shop with the bucket. The king picked them carefully. If he's there, he's a tough one, all right?

_I got to see him. She barely calmed down.

_Yeh! He's not that far, now! She tried to cheer her up anyway.

Her father was busy doing an inventory. He dropped his wax tablet when he saw her.

_Justice! He was alarmed. What they've done to you?

_That's not her blood, it's the provost's. Solene reassured him.

_What? What's happened? A fight? What's going on out there? He was worried.

_It was an accident. She made him fall off his horse. Solene explained.

_Damn, he dropped his jaw, you're lucky they didn't arrest you. At least, he won't come back. Thank god.

_Thank God! She cried. He could be dead! I love him! And he loves me!

_He probably said that to tens of women. He turned his back on her. I'll pray for his recovery, but It'd be better for you that he don't come back and that you never try to see him again.

_What? She could not believe what she heard. Dad! I believe you wanted...

_Go change your clothes, and get back to work. He gently asked her.

Justice bowed her head down and walked up to her bedroom. The Solene lightly hummed a popular love song and walked toward the potter. The craftsman sighed by seeing her coming.

_I say he will come, the provost, she twirled around, on his black steed,the provost, he will come, to take her to his palace, on his black steed, the provost ,he will come, to marry her and love her forever, on his black steed,the provost, he will come, they'll live happily ever after!

_Stop this, would you. He muttered, visibly not amused by her show.

_I know it's supposed to be a white steed and a prince. She snickered.

_I like that song, that's not the point. He mumbled. He wanted to have some fresh flesh to toy with and I wouldn't have my word to say for he's an officer. Thank God for having driving him away.

_Ehhh, he goes to the brothel, that tells me that virgins aren't his favorite dish. He wants something else from her. She whispered.

_He's far too old, he could be my younger brother. He wrote on his tablet. She's a child.

_Not anymore, she's not woman yet, but he'll take care of that after receiving the archbishop's blessing. She lightly giggled.

_Damn, you might be right, may God save her. He counted his jugs.

_Why? He's an excellent party, and she likes him. She did not understand.

_He'll break her heart. He frowned. You know Justice, she needs a pious and true man, not a...

_Unless she's mean to him. He'll calm down after she gives him a little provost. They all do. She said.

_And she'll die in childbirth. He predicted stern.

_Don't say that! She crossed herself.

_She's so delicate, and he's so...big. She couldn't deliver one like him. He sighed.

_Eh! He came from somewhere, does he? So, she would be able to do as well as his mom, doesn't she? She turned pale.

The potter did not answer, so she left the shop, in prey to dark thoughts. Justice was listening to them from upstairs, she was astonished. She knew that some women died in childbirth, but she never thought that she could be one of those. When a man had a much stronger built than his wife, it could led to such things? Claude was much taller than her, but it was not making her delicate nor fragile. He was tall for everyone. She knew she was feeling something for him, something between exasperation, attraction, and affection. She never thought about having children with him though. Despite this dreadful new information, the feeling was not fading away, so may God keep her, then.

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 **Hi, I finally figured out how to make some authors note ;) Yeah, I am not very tech-educated, don't laugh I forbid it! XD. I hope you like the story so far. I am sure you're burning of impatience to see our dear judge coming into this world, but patience. Since parents have a great influence on one's personality development ,I think it is important to work on his parents characters more in depth. Justice is a teenager, so there's not so much to tell for the good reason that she's constantly changing, learning, and adapting; her personality is maturing and evolving around the different influences, people, culture, she's exposed to. In the middle ages, youth was not much different than it is today, when one grew up in a stable and safe environment, he/she took it for granted, until times come to enter adult life. Justice's little cosy world is put up side down by this man older than her, having a totally different background,has much more life experience than her and just comes and takes whatever he 's why I think it was important to create Solene and give Justice a free-minded best friend to help her seeing life on a better angle. Otherwise, I would have to write tens of chapters before to make the romance begins *-*.Concerning Claude's father, he's thirty; he has a past ,a personality which won't evolved much,and world view that can always change, so he required more work. The following chapters will unveil more about his past, state of mind, and story. Of course he and Justice will get closer, they don't have the choice anyway ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for taking so long, I have been busy lately. However, this chapter tells how Judge Claude Frollo's father is doing after he fell off his horse (this Claude is not the Disney character movie, but his father. In noble families, the first born inherited their father first name, so that can be confusing) . Justice is getting more and more confused about how she feels about him. So I let you read and Hope you will enjoy it.**

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Justice did not eat breakfast and spent her afternoon working. Her mother came seating next to her. She brought a plate of stew and was waiting for her to speak a word. Justice dried her forehead with the back of her sleeve and stopped the wheel.

_ Your father went to the Hotel Dieu to check on him. She started. He's out of danger. He shall recover and going back to work in one week or so.

_Thank God. She began working on the vase's detail.

_Would you make me the pleasure to eat, chicklet? She handed her the plate.

_I'm not hungry, I'm feeling weird. She focused on her work.

_You like him, don't you? She went straight to the point.

_I think so. She admitted. Do you think he only wants to toy with me?

_I've no idea, I hope he doesn't. She changed of position. Please, eat.

_My stomach is tight just because we're talking about him; I'm not doing that in purpose. She sighed.

_I was feeling that way when I met your father. She remembered.

_Daddy says that I would die if we'd do it and...you know the consequences. She lowered her gaze.

_Yes, so as you know, I've been with child. Don't use a code to talk about this with me. You're my daughter and it is my mother role to teach you what I know. She brushed against her cheek. I want you to speak freely, in despite of what happened to your sister.

_Do you think I'll die if I'd give him a child? She whispered turning pale.

_This is the risk each woman takes when she loves. She was moved.

_You think I would? She stared at her hands.

_I don't know, I can't tell. She sighed. I've seen solid women died in childbirth, and others, more delicate and frail than you ,giving birth to ten pounds babies, one after another. Only God knows why.

_You're not helping me. She raised her brow,

_Listen to your heart, Justice. It's and will be your best guide through life. She brought her hand to her left breast. If you love this man, and if he loves you as much, then everything will work its way.

_Hum. She frowned. I've no clue.

_You won't have more clue if you keep on avoiding him. Her mother stood up. Go talk to him.

_Father...Justice began.

_He wants to protect you, that's all. Like my father did when I met yours. She smiled amused. I know you won't do anything stupid, I trust you. Let me know if you want to go see him, I will watch after the shop.

Justice nodded and resumed her work. Her mother left the workshop and went back to work.

The bells rang the end of the afternoon, and Justice thought she had worked enough. She had caught up on her orders and even was ahead on her book. She covered the clay with her apron and washed her hands. She walked to the table and inspected the cup she had finished painting for Claude. It was dry and ready to be delivered. She looked at its bottom that she had personalized. Justice purposely had carved the P of her last name to make it look like a sort of F. On the line below, she had written a "Mea Culpa" surrounded by her winged heart pierced by the Cupido's arrow. She laughed of her fact, knowing that, like all her customers, he would not read the bottom of the cup. The proof was that their new costumers always searched the all of Paris before finding their shop. They all came because they saw some of her pieces at a friend's home and could have save themselves the walk if they had check the dishes bottoms.

She carefully wrapped the cup into a piece of cloth and left her workshop. She went to her bedroom and changed her work-clothes for something more appropriate. Also, for the first time, she opened the right side of her dresser to pick a gown instead of throwing it because she judged it compromising. She picked a green and light purple one that she disregarded thinking it was indecent. She put it on and looked for a green headscarf. She tight the strings of her corsage and blushed seeing that her little white breasts went up to form two defined balls. She closed her eyes and heavily sighed, it was no the moment to change her mind. She wanted to appear as a true woman and she saw far worst in Paris. She brushed her hair and twisted them around the scarf. She took her dirty working clothes under her arm and left the room. She climbed down the stairs and her parents stared at her astonished. She looked older, she looked like a woman!

_It doesn't suit me, that's it? She was ready to return upstairs.

_No, no, you look good, it changes you that's all. Her father muttered.

_Yes, it's a nice dress. Her mother approved with a wink of the eye.

Reassured, she went to the laundry room and threw her work clothes in the basket. Then, she crossed the store in the direction of the exit.

_Where are you going? Her father mumbled.

_Hmm, see C...the provost. She lightly blushed. His order is ready.

_Hmm, he frowned, don't come back too late.

_I won't. She left the shop.

_Don't make this face. Her mother pinched his cheek. Would you prefer she becomes a nun?

_No, no. He sighed. I hope she'll be happy, that's all.

Justice walked up the Forges street. Some of her neighbors recognized her, others needed more time due to her new pastel gown. Rumors already were spreading concerning her supposed engagement to Claude Frollo. Some had seen the officer coming to the shop this morning, others had heard Phillip, the Iron craftman's son, telling that Justice had preferred the provost to him, in despite of all the good effort he made to get her affection. The Solene, of course, had opened her big mouth and said that the officer had wanted to trap her in Notre Dame to force her to marry him. Then he would have consumed the union inside the confessional and put a little provost in her drawl, with the benediction of the archbishop. Of course! These two ones were friends, everybody knew it! Oh fortunately, Solene was here to rescue the poor Justice! But why she was engaged to him anyway?! What a mess!

Justice saw the beautiful little flowers growing alongside the water wheel and knelt to gather them. She forced herself to don't pay attention to the people insistant stares and to their whispers. She resumed her walk to the Hotel-Dieu. It was closer than the cathedral, and she took the Innocents street to gain some precious time. She left her crowded neighborhood to take the Abbaye street, and walked along the many clusters to finally reach her destination. The immense Hotel Dieu was in front of her. Now, she had to climb down the stairs and find the entrance. There were two huge building on each side of the square, they seemed to be ready to crush her like a moth.

_Eh! Hello! She shyly waved toward a group of monks. Excuse me, I am looking for...

They had bowed their heads and were rushing into the opposite direction.

_Thank you. She sighed

She kept on walking down the stairs, wondering if she actually was to the Hotel Dieu. She heard a noise of dishes and silverware; she decided to follow it. Hopefully, the cooks would help her. She saw a man drying the dishes and another was classing the silverware in a cart. They were monks. She decided to hide behind a furniture. She did not want to scare them away like the others.

_Hmm, Sirs, she interrupted them, Don't run away, please.

The men let go off their tasks and were startled.

_I won't show myself to you, I promise. She saw them looking around in surprise. I know that I'm not supposed to be here, but I'm lost. I'm looking for the Hotel Dieu. I want to visit a..a...friend.

_Show up! Demon! One barked with a strong accent.

_Well. She shyly left her hideout. Here I am.

_She's not demon. The other laughed.

_No, of course not, I'm just a girl, she was embarassed, I'm lost, that's all.

_The sick's entrance, on the other side. Here is our home. The monk with the accent spat. No girl here. Go away. Shhh! Va te retro, malefica!

_It was a pleasure to meeting you, she politely took her leave anyway, Where should I go?

The other monk, the nicer one, walked toward her.

_Let me show you. He invited her to follow him.

_Don't touch her, Brother Baptiste. She would bewitch you! The crazy monk warned his peer.

_Come on, she's just a lost child. He put his hand against Justice's back to guide her outside.

_The devil may take several forms to seduce you! He hissed.

Justice furrowed her brows and frowned in incomprehension.

_He reads too many books about witches, so many that his head could explode. He lightly laughed.

The monk was a dark hair round young man, with a nice face. He had sparkling and laughing blue eyes.

_I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble. She followed him upstairs. I was thinking that it was a shortcut.

_You're not the first to who this happened. He sighed. The next time you'll know.

They arrived on top of the stairs and Baptiste widely opened his arms in front of her. She yelped wondering what he wanted, a hug? He was not supposed to, he was a monk!

_I'm taking the place of the sign that should be here. He said.

_Ah. She rolled her eyes.

_Man or woman? He asked.

_Man. She replied.

_This way. He showed her left.

_Thank you. She smiled.

_Go on, don't let your sweet one waiting. He encouraged her to hurry.

_My sweet one? She raised her brow.

_The flowers, I guess that he's more than a simple friend. He smiled.

_I suppose so. She bowed her head, suddenly looking sad.

_It is not bad, I hope. He seemed to worry.

_He fell off his horse this morning. He hurt his head very bad. She told him. But he should recover.

_I'll pray for him. He left her.

_Claude, his name is Claude Frollo. She gave him his identity.

_I'll pray and I hope he will get back on his feet quickly. He waved to her.

_Thank you and God be with you. She returned his wave.

She took the direction of the men aisle. She found it easily for there were a sign. She walked toward the men keeping the entrance. Two guards and one old man seating at a desk.

_What do you want? The sleepy looking old man asked her.

_I'm Justice Potier, I come to visit Claude Frollo. She announced herself. I came to bring him these flowers and his cup.

_Well, well. He evaluated her. Sign here.

_I ended up at the Monk's quarters, they should put a sign over there. She signed her name.

_Hmm, Hmm, he nodded, these gentlemen going to check if you carry any weapon or other hazardous items.

The two guards walked toward her.

_Knowing the nature of your sweet one popularity at the Truanderie, we are not too cautious. He declared. We already seen three women pretending to be his sweet one and they carried weapons or doubtful substances and foods.

_I understand. She let the men searching her.

They touched and she clenched her teeth. They opened her purse to check if she was carrying poison and removed her scarf.

_Eh! She reacted.

_Simple precaution. This could be a lethal weapon. He took it from his men to put it on his desk. For the same reason, you won't find any curtains or pillows in his room.

_The cup, Sir? One soldier asked.

_Hmm. He scratched his chin. She could break it and...

_It's a gift! She exclaimed. A special order!

_Special order. The guard looked the bottom.

_Don't...She wanted to stop him. It's private...

He laughed and gave it to this peer who did the same. Justice was as red as a tomato. The cup ended on the old man's desk who read the inscription as well. He had a light laughter and handed it back to her.

_We have nothing to fear from you, you are free to go. He authorized her to take all her items back.

Justice was escorted to the provost's room by the two guards whispering and lowly laughing. She wanted to disappear into the ground. She was starting to wonder if she should redo the cup. They were going to show the inscription to him, would he mock her too? He was not clear this morning. Did he wanted a kiss, or to be her husband? This marriage was only speculation after all. Her memory was failing under the pressure. The men opened her the door.

_Eh! Go slowly, dearie, he's recovering. One taunted her.

_Shut up! You pig! She lifted her chin up.

_Oh! Oh! His peer reacted. She has her temper, doesn't she?

_Humpf. She haltingly passed the door.

They shut it after her and she heard them laughing. She sighed and shacked her head; they were so stupid. The room was plunged into the twilight due to the folding screen set in front of the window in place of the curtains. She inspected the content of the room and did not see anything that could have been moved by a single person. No loose objects, save for a water bladder setting on the night table. The Palace paid three men to watch over one; Claude had to be important and they seemed really concerned about his safety.

She perceived a quiet but painful breathing. She stopped her exploration to walk to the bed. The beast was asleep, peaceful and defenseless. Now that he was laying down, Claude could not impress her with his height. He looked so vulnerable and human in his sleep. The sheet hid his strong shoulders, only leaving his throat exposed. Her hands would have been the only weapon she could have used against him. They would have been long enough to wrap his neck, yet she doubted that they would have been able to crush the muscles surrounding his trachea. The guards was rights, they had nothing to fear from her.

She saw that the flowers were starting to die. She unwrapped the cup, poured some water into it, and arranged the flowers, while singing along. Probably a cloud moved away from the sun because a ray of light hit the table. The flowers' little orange hearts seemed to bloom under this astral caress. Justice was stunted by the perfection of this bunch of wild flowers that she quickly gathered. A sighed and a whisper took her attention away from the cup to focus on Claude. Probably the sun had disturbed him in his sleep because he had turned his face toward her. Considering his head injury, the bandage was small. Certainly his keepers were afraid that somebody would use the cloth to strangle him.

The shiny dust was dancing in the air. The light was in full harmony with the patient's ash hair. He looked like one of these Byzantine golden icon. The volume of his curls declined from bronze to gold and she could not help herself but touching it to discover this strange texture. She sat on the edge of the bed and shyly brought her hand on his mane. She gasped when she felt something between cashmere, silk, and wool. This touch make her feel cold and warm, alarmed her heart, deepened her breath...She plunged her hand deeper in his luxurious hair. "Lust", her conscience warned her.

_Ah! She precipitately removed her hand.

She immediately left the bed and knelt, putting her elbows on the man's couch, this man whose she had profaned the temple. It was bad, very evil, far worst than the kiss they had exchanged. She did not have her rosary, she could only joined her hand in prayer and beg God for forgiveness.

_I beg you to forgive me my offense toward your servant that I have molested in his sleep. She whispered against her hands. It is my fault, all my fault, not even the fact that I am still ignorant of the evil corruptible power of the flesh does not make this dreadful act more forgivable. Father, I...

A caress on her wrist interrupted her. She jumped out of surprise and stood up, then she backed up, panting. She saw his opened palm. He moved and looked at the object set on the night table.

_I...came to...make sure you was feeling all right. She tried to control her troubled voice. And...to bring you your order.

_Don't bow your head, my sweet, look at me. He whispered.

She did not want he saw the embarrassment on her face, so she kept her eyes focused on the floor.

_Know that your feelings are shared, and that you did not molest me. I was not asleep, not really, and I liked the feeling of your touch. He admitted. I wish it would have last forever.

She lifted up her chin and the blood left her face and members.

_Come to me, he invited her, don't be afraid.

The sheet had slipped over him and his chest was exposed. God! He did not wear a shirt! And she could not help but look at him and she liked what she saw. Her conscience fought against her unholy thoughts and wants. Yes, she wanted to Touch him!Feel him! Scent him!Taste him! All in once! She started shaking and painting; she wanted to say something, even flee, but she was stuck. He intensively stared at her, his like summer thunderstorm eyes were seeking to trap her soul into their electric glance. Another of his male spell, she was drawing in these silver pools; his look was supernatural. No human on earth could do this; he was a wizard. No, his blond curls and these light eyes, those scars, the fact he survived this fall and was already recovering as nothing happened...he was far more than a wizard; he was a fallen angel of some sort.

_Justice? My sweet? He moved revealing more of himself. Are you feeling all right?

_Ah...Ah...she could only make little hiccups.

He swiftly moved his hand to invite her again. She moved her head from left to right, crossed herself, and hurriedly left the room. He sighed out of exasperation. His head was throbbing and he let himself fall back heavily on the mattress. He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts were going to her, to his innocent shy sweet little potter who believed she had molested him; he could not help and laughed loudly.

Later this day, Claude received somebody else visit. He hurriedly sat in his bed in recognizing the Provost of Paris. He seemed stiffed and the patient was expecting a blame. The man's look traveled into the room. He walked toward the night table, focused on the cup and its bunch of Forget-me-not.

_Such a delicate attention. He touched a flower. So, it is that true?

_Precise, if you may. Claude looked at him.

_That you are engaged to a wench. He glanced at him.

_Sir, she is not...He started feeling anger growing into his stomach.

_It is unacceptable! His superior banged his fist on the table. You are a nobleman!

The cup jumped and moved dangerously but did not get overthrown.

_You are a King Officer! He reminded him. Your misconduct soils the Palace reputation! You...

_Would you prefer the brothel? He took the cup away from him. She may be born among the lower of the commoners, Sir, but she has grown into a virtuous, educated and talented person. Look!

_It is a cup. He calmed down. A nice cup, I must admit... So, you are serious...

_Yes, I am, Sir. He confirmed.

_Well, there is nothing I can do. He sighed. But, you will get fined ten pounds for using of your authority in another district than yours, and twenty pounds for doing it out of your service hours. And, that is not all.

Claude had already turned green by hearing the previous sanctions. He had money saved but he rather invest it in land in Paris outskirts.

_The treasure had to pay for your care, so you will pay it back entirely. The provost pursued.

_It is normal. He recognized.

_Also, I had to hire three men to keep you safe. He added. You...

_I need not these puppets! He got offended. I can defend myself!

_Silence, Frollo! He yelled. You was fainted all morning and afternoon! Truands came here with weapons and poisons!

_I see, I will pay. He surrendered.

_This fifty pounds fine will be addressed to the wench who put you into this bed. He cocked a brow.

_What? Claude turned pale. They won't be able to pay such amount! Sir, let me pay for it! Please!

_She will pay! No discussion! He hissed. Be glad I did not hang her for the example!

_Thank you. Claude muttered.

_Do not thank me. He dryly replied. You would be able to go back on the roads and let us deal with this vermin.

_You know me so well. He was being ironic.

_It does not please me, I do not like your primitive ways and I do not like you. I am doing the duty I have been elected for by keeping you into our ranks. He declared.

_I will do the duty I have been voluntarily elected for as well, Sir. He gave him a side long glance.

The provost pinched his lips and turned his back on him. He left the room and did not bother shut the door; the guards had to do it for him. Claude sighed out of relief; it was not too bad. Justice would be free; the dreadful idea of having her hanged was his first thought when he fell off his horse. He would pay this fine, he would find a way to give her the money, without the arrogant old nag knowing it. He could do nothing anyway, he knew it. Claude would return simple soldier or even mercenary, if his superior harmed Justice. He would marry her, and she would be the mother of his children. He distractedly touched the cup and felt the letters on the bottom. He lifted it up to read her handwriting. He furrowed his brows, and laughed in understanding the hidden message. He was skeptical about this P looking like a F and brushed against the curved line of the winged heart. It was somewhat childish, but so refreshing in the middle of his violent daily life.

* * *

 **Well, you can have an idea about where Judge Frollo obsessive behavior and religious fervor would be coming from. Concerning his boldness, and sarcastic touch, well, all his father ;) Please let me know, if you like the story so far.**


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